Sweet as the Devil by Susan Johnson Read Free Book Online Page A

police confidently surmised.
    When the coded telegram from India was placed in Von Welden’s hand, he read it and subsequently allowed himself a moment of self-congratulation. Then he called in his secretary and dictated a message to be delivered to Prince Ernst.
    Von Welden’s spy network was pervasive. Very little apart from the occasional whispered comment was free of censorship or the watchful eye of the secret police.
    The minister knew exactly where and with whom Prince Ernst was taking his pleasure.

CHAPTER 5

    R UPERT’S BODY HAD been packed in ice and shipped home on a swift steamer via the Suez Canal. When the container was opened wharfside in Dalmia and Prince Ernst saw the ligature marks around his son’s neck, he immediately began to compile a list of his enemies. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that Rupert had been killed by a native in some capricious act of violence. Especially when the cable had come from Prince Reiger, who was one of the most reactionary of the government’s advisors and no friend of his.
    Directly after the funeral, Ernst took himself up to Vienna in search of answers. The conspiracy to murder Rupert would have originated in the capital.
    Stepping down from his carriage in the courtyard of the palace that had been in the Battenberg family for centuries, he was overcome by a rare melancholy. He was not by nature an emotional man, but with Rupert’s grievous death, he faced a stark reality. Barring a precipitous marriage resulting in an heir, he was the last Battenberg. No brothers or uncles, sisters or aunts, no cousins survived.
    Merde. The last thing he wished to do was remarry, he thought, walking across the ancient cobbles toward the massive bronze entrance doors.
    His marriage hadn’t been congenial.
    Marie had chosen to live apart from him, and her death, while not a surprise, had, in truth, been a relief. The invalid role she’d adopted so as to avoid not only his company but also Rupert’s had killed her in the end—or perhaps it was the incompetence of her cher ami , Doctor Meynert, who prescribed opium for any or no ailment.
    As the huge double doors opened before him, the suits of armor standing row upon row in the entrance hall met his gaze, as did the scores of swords and shields decorating the walls, memorials all to his long-ago ancestors. And other things never changed as well, he thought as his indestructible butler approached. “Good afternoon, Heinrich.”
    The tall, regal butler bowed. “Good afternoon, Excellency. May I offer you the very deepest condolences from myself and the staff.”
    “Thank you, Heinrich. These are troubled times—no question.” Ernst would never display his feelings before servants. “Someone should go through Prince Rupert’s things and distribute whatever would be appropriate to charity. I’ll leave it up to you.”
    “I’ll have Renner make an accounting, sir.” The majordomo opened his mouth, then shut it.
    “Speak up, Heinrich. I needn’t be coddled.”
    “A small quandary, Excellency. I was uncertain whether to give this to you.” Taking an envelope from a console table, the butler held it out. “It was delivered by a vulgar little man with instructions to see that you receive it promptly. A most unsuitable person,” he noted with a sniff, “to be giving orders.”
    Ernst smiled faintly; Heinrich was a stickler for rank. “Unsuitable, you say? Let’s see.” Taking the envelope, he tore it open, pulled out the heavy monogrammed card, and quickly perused an invitation from Von Welden for drinks. He looked up. “When did this arrive?”
    The grey-haired butler raised his brows an infinitesimal distance. “Ten minutes ago, Excellency.”
    Bastard. He’s having me followed.
    “Will there be a reply, Excellency?”
    Heinrich was clearly hoping he’d say no. But prudence required a response. “Send my acceptance tomorrow. Late tomorrow.” He could at least return Von Welden’s insolence with equal bad